The Village in the Mountains; Conversion of Peter Bayssiere; and History of a Bible Part 2

CONVERSION OF PETER BAYSSIERE

FROM THE ROMISH CHURCH

TO THE PROTESTANT FAITH.

IN A LETTER TO HIS CHILDREN.

TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH.

CONVERSION OF PETER BAYSSIERE IN A LETTER TO HIS CHILDREN.[4]

[Footnote 4: This Narrative was originally ent.i.tled, "A letter to my children, on the subject of my conversion from the Romish church, in which I was born, to the Protestant, in which I hope to die. By Peter Bayssiere, Montaigut, Department Tarn and Garonne." (France.) "As much of the interest of this Narrative," says the preface to the London edition, "depends upon its authenticity, the reader is referred to the subjoined extract of a letter from the Rev. Francis Cunningham, Rector of Pakefield, dated May 20, 1829, which will probably remove any doubts on the subject.

"......The autograph of Bayssiere's letter I saw when I was in the South of France, in the year 1826. It had just then been received by M. Audebez, the minister of Nerac; who, as appears by the Tract, was well acquainted both with Bayssiere and his circ.u.mstances. Confident of the genuineness of the account, I am very glad it has been published in French, and translated into English. It cannot but be interesting and profitable to all lovers of the truth."

"FRANCIS CUNNINGHAM."]

MY DEAR CHILDREN--I purpose to give you, in this letter, an account of my conversion to the true Christian religion--that religion which was established by our Lord and his apostles, professed by their followers during the first two centuries of the church, and which is now followed by the protestant or reformed Christians. I am conscious that neither my abilities nor my education qualify me for this task. A mere mechanic, and possessing but few advantages of education, I find it very difficult to express, as I could wish, the thoughts and feelings which crowd upon my mind. But how great and numerous so ever may be the difficulties which I must encounter in such an undertaking, I am impelled to it by the tender affection I bear you, and by the earnest desire and hope of being useful to you. May G.o.d be my helper; may he not suffer me to be deterred by any obstacle; and may he grant me the blessing of accomplis.h.i.+ng that which I consider as a sacred duty.

It _is_ my imperative duty to make you acquainted with the real motives which have produced the most important, solemn, and decisive step in my life.

It is my duty to give glory to G.o.d for the unspeakable mercy which he has deigned to show me, in calling me from darkness into his marvellous light; in opening to me the treasures of his infinite compa.s.sion, and in giving me the hope of salvation by faith in his Son, who only "has the words of eternal life," being alone "the way, the truth, and the life."

It is my duty to endeavour to render my experience profitable to you, to show you the path by which it has pleased G.o.d to lead me to truth, and to the fountain of living waters; and, above all, to labour in prayer for you, that you may be partakers of the peace and joy with which my spirit is filled under the influence of his blessed word.

May this paper, my dear children, by the blessing of G.o.d, contribute to the triumph of the Gospel, and to the glory of our great G.o.d and Saviour Jesus Christ, by filling your hearts with the love of truth, and by leading you in the way of true religion.

It was in the thirty-third year of my age, in the present year, (1826,) that I openly embraced and professed the Protestant religion, after having given it the most serious and attentive examination, and being convinced that it was indeed the true religion of Christ, agreeable, in every respect, to the revelations of his Gospel.

Like you, my dear children, I was born in the Romish church; but birth has, in fact, very little to do with religion; the utmost that it can effect is to predispose the mind, or to serve as a pretext to timid, interested, or indifferent persons, to justify their external adherence to a form of wors.h.i.+p in which their hearts do not unite.

As our Saviour declares to his disciple Peter, it is not flesh or blood that can make known to us the true G.o.d, the Creator, Preserver, and Saviour of men. Faith, through which alone we can become children of G.o.d, and true members of the church of Christ, is a gift of the Holy Spirit, and by no means transmitted to us with our existence by our parents. St. John teaches us this when he says, "As many as received him, to them gave he power to become the sons of G.o.d, even to them that believe on his name: which were born, not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of G.o.d." John, 1: 12, 13.

Thus you see that we are neither Catholics nor Protestants by birth; and it is a great error for any one to feel himself bound to either church, because he has been born within its pale. Religion, like every thing else, must be studied and examined; and no one is truly a member of a church, further than as he understands and acknowledges its doctrines. His adherence on any other ground only proves him credulous, ignorant, and superst.i.tious; the slave of prejudice and habit.

As for me, my children, although born in the Romish church, I can a.s.sure you that I never partic.i.p.ated in its belief. It would be foreign to the end I have in view, to relate here the various circ.u.mstances of my childhood and youth, which preserved me from being brought into the bosom of the Catholic church by the usual rites and ceremonies. G.o.d so ordered it, that I made no vow by which _I might_[5] have afterwards felt myself bound to the church of Rome.

[Footnote 5: "_I might have_," but I am far from supposing that I _ought_ to have fell myself indissolubly tied to the Roman Catholic church by any sacrament that I might have received, or by any engagement that I might have entered into: on the contrary, I lay it down as an incontestable principle, that every vow and every oath are null, and neither can nor ought to bind any one to a church in which he has discovered errors, or doctrines and habits opposed to the word of G.o.d, and contrary to his own conscience. Truth alone, and the full conviction of truth, const.i.tute a tie which can inviolably connect us with any church whatever. From the moment that this conviction no longer exists, and that error is discovered, it is an imperative duty to abandon a mode of wors.h.i.+p which does not accord with our true sentiments; and he who perseveres against this conviction becomes a hypocrite, contemptible in the eyes of men, and condemned before G.o.d.]

Unknown to me, that is, at an age when I could have no idea of what was done to me, I was doubtless received into the church by the usual ceremony; but as this act was performed without any consent or co-operation on my part, I have never regarded it in the light of an engagement to the Catholic church.

With regard to what is called "the first communion," (which is considered as the public ratification and confirmation of the vow of my parents,) this I never received in the Romish church, nor did I receive what is called the Sacrament of confirmation.

Before I could be united by the sacred bond of marriage to your virtuous and beloved mother, it was necessary that I should confess.

This I did with extreme reluctance, feeling that nothing could be at once more absurd, more tyrannical, or more degrading, than to oblige a man to prostrate himself at the feet of a priest, a mortal, a sinner, a child of corruption like himself, and there to make confessions to him, which offended Deity alone could have a right to require: and to receive absolution from him for faults with which he had no concern.

I could not, however, marry without confession, and therefore I was obliged to submit; but no power on earth could have constrained me to go further. The Sacrament, as the Roman Catholics receive it, had, from infancy, excited in me feelings of disgust. My mind had always revolted at the idea, that the great G.o.d of heaven could allow himself to be _eaten_ by his creatures in the form of a little flour. Under various pretences, therefore, I contrived to avoid the ceremony, and obtained the nuptial benediction without it.

The Lord, who never leaves himself without the witness of his numerous mercies to us, even when we are offending him in so many ways, was pleased to bless our marriage. Your birth, my dear children, crowned our joy, and left us nothing to wish but to see you grow and prosper, and to devote ourselves to your happiness. Alas! little did we suspect, whilst thus delightfully engaged, that this joy was to be so soon disturbed, and that death would deprive us of her who had given you birth. But our great G.o.d, whose ways and whose designs, though often inscrutable, are always full of wisdom, saw good to separate us; you from a tender and excellent mother, and me from a beloved companion and inestimable friend. She died February 11, 1821, after a few days' illness, leaving me in a state of affliction which it would be in vain to attempt to describe.

Nevertheless, terrible as was the stroke, and heart-rending as was the separation, I can now acknowledge, my children, that it was a salutary chastis.e.m.e.nt, sent by sovereign love; and one of the links of that chain of Providence by which the Lord saw good to deliver me from the miserable state in which I was then living; and to lead me to the fountain of grace and true peace.

In fact, the death of your poor mother gave rise to a train of circ.u.mstances, which, by drawing my attention to subjects that I had hitherto totally disregarded, and by exciting in my mind a degree of energy of which I could not have supposed myself capable, ended by engaging me most unexpectedly in the serious study of religion. The particulars I am about to give you respecting these things, will convince you that G.o.d can overrule the wickedness of men for good, and will show you that a Romish priest was the means of directing me to _the way_, (I mean the perusal and free examination of the word of G.o.d,) which led me, eventually, to the Protestant church.

Your mother's funeral was conducted with Catholic ceremonies, and, according to my means, I spared nothing to honour her remains. I likewise consented, either from conformity to custom, or from a wish to please my relatives, who were influenced by the fear of purgatory, or perhaps from partic.i.p.ating myself in the false notion that bought prayers can mitigate the sufferings of the dead--from one or all of these causes, aggravated by the sorrow which filled my heart and inflamed my imagination, I consented to the performance of the nine customary ma.s.ses for the rest of the soul.

The priest to whom I first went, told me that he was too busy to undertake the whole, but that I might depend upon him for three. From him I went to another, who engaged to say the remaining six, and did so without delay. Sunday after Sunday, for a considerable time, I went to the first, to inquire whether my three ma.s.ses would be said in the following week. He always found some excuse, saying that "there were others more urgent than myself--that he was previously engaged--that he had undertaken more than was in his power to perform,". From February to June, I was thus put off under various pretexts. Worn out, at length, by so many fruitless efforts, I resolved to put an end to them, and mentioned the subject to your aunt, your mother's sister, expressing to her my extreme annoyance. She asked me if I had offered the priest the amount of the ma.s.ses which he had promised to say?

"No," I said, "the idea never occurred to me; but even if it had, I should not have dared to do it, for fear of offending him. It is not usual", I added scornfully, "to pay before one is served. No one ever pays me for a saddle before I make it." "No matter," replied your aunt, "my advice to you is to return to the priest, and offer to pay for the ma.s.ses which you have ordered."

I did as she advised me, and this time my request was favourably received. The priest seized the six-franc piece which I laid on the table, looked at me and said, "Do you wish me to say six?" "No,"

I replied, with a feeling of indignation which I could hardly repress--"No, sir, I only want three. Return to me the rest of the money; poor folks cannot afford to spend so much at once."

I left the priest, thoroughly ashamed of having contributed to gratify his cupidity, and very much disposed to think the religion we were taught was nothing but a tissue of fables and impostures, to which the thirst of gold and silver had given birth. I cannot tell you all the sad and painful reflections that occupied my mind during the remainder of that day; I was overcome by them, and rejoiced to see the night, hoping to find relief in sleep. I went to bed, but could not close my eyes. Still haunted by the remembrance of what had so disgusted me, a mult.i.tude of thoughts crowded on my imagination. I knew that the priests claimed the word of G.o.d as their authority for all their doctrines and ceremonies, which word I also knew was contained in the Old and New Testaments, although, to my misfortune, I did not then regard them as a divine revelation. In fact, I believed no more in the Holy Bible _as the word of G.o.d_, than I did in the doctrine of purgatory; still I felt a desire to search and to ascertain whether this _lucrative_ doctrine was contained in the Gospel, and in what manner it was there established: at the same moment I recollected that there was, on the chimney-piece of my room, a New Testament, in which I had learnt to read, but which I had never opened since I was nine or ten years old. I jumped out of bed, and hastily dressing myself, resolved to begin, without delay, my researches on the subject of purgatory.

With this sole object in view, I read through the Gospels, the Acts of the Apostles, the Epistles, and the Revelation of St. John; confining my attention exclusively to those points that tended either to establish or controvert this doctrine. This perusal of the New Testament, which, from my eagerness to satisfy my curiosity and resolve my doubts, I accomplished without once stopping, except for refreshment, proved to me that the doctrine of purgatory was not to be found in the Gospel, but must have been derived from some other source.

Indeed, my dear children, I did not find a single pa.s.sage which established it, either directly or indirectly: on the contrary, I was struck with many declarations completely opposed to it. Thus I read in St. Matthew: "The wicked shall go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous into life eternal." Matt. 25:46. This absolutely destroys the idea of any intermediate abode between heaven and h.e.l.l.

I read the song of Simeon, by which it clearly appears that the good old man had no idea that he was to stop in the road to heaven, or that he would have to undergo any _purging fire_ before he could get there; for he exclaims, holding the infant Jesus in his arms, "Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation." &c. Luke, 2:29, 30.

I read the promises which Jesus made to the thief on the cross, when he said to him, "Lord, remember me when thou comest into thy kingdom."

Luke, 23:42, 43. If there were such a place as purgatory, and if any one were likely to be subjected to its fires, surely it would have been this malefactor, condemned by human, laws, and probably guilty of many crimes: yet our Saviour replies, "Verily, I say unto thee, _to-day_ thou shalt be with me in Paradise."

I read in the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans, that "there is now _no_ condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." Rom. 8:1. A doctrine altogether opposed to that of purgatory, which teaches that Christians are, after this life, subjected to a process of torments before they are free from condemnation.

I read in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that "it is appointed to men once to die, but after this the judgment," Heb. 9: 27, which clearly proves that the destiny, both of the bad and good, is irrevocably fixed from the moment of their death; and that there is no purgatory, from which ma.s.ses, prayers, or rather gold and silver, can deliver any one.

I read also in the first Epistle of St. John, that "the blood of Jesus Christ," the Son of G.o.d, "cleanseth us from _all_ sin," 1 John, 1:7, which excludes all other kinds of purification, and formally contradicts the doctrine of purgatory. Finally, I read in the book of Revelation, that "blessed are the dead which die in the Lord, from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours, and their works do follow them."

Here is another declaration which confirms what the preceding and many other pa.s.sages establish in so convincing a manner. Not having discovered a single text of the New Testament which told in favour of purgatory; but, on the contrary, having observed and meditated on those which I have quoted, and many other equally opposed to this doctrine, I was fully persuaded that it never had been thought of by the writers of the Gospel. You may easily believe, my dear children, that this discovery in no way tended to strengthen the bonds which held me to the Romish church, nor to confirm me in their faith.

Still, however, I was dissatisfied, and still longed to know positively _from whence_ the priests had derived their vain system.

This desire filled my mind for some days, and at last it struck me that _the Pope_ must have been the inventor of it. I then naturally began to wish to discover _who_ the Pope was, and what right he had to impose such a doctrine. I had often read and heard, both in conversation and from the pulpit, that St. Peter was the chief and head of the Apostles; that he had been the first pope at Rome; and that all succeeding popes had inherited his rights and prerogatives.

I conceived a wish to know what the New Testament said upon this subject, and I immediately undertook a second perusal of it; in the same state of mind as before, that is to say, absorbed by one sole object, and having nothing in view but to find out whether St. Peter had really been set over all the other apostles, and placed at Rome as head of all the churches.

This examination, which was pursued with a degree of attention of which I should now be scarcely capable, ended in convincing me that the supremacy of St. Peter was no better established by the New Testament than the first doctrine which I had sought for, and that undoubtedly the papacy was without scriptural authority.

I found in St. Matthew the _calling of_ Simon, who was afterwards called Peter; Matt. 4:18, 19,20; but it did not appear to me to differ from that addressed to Andrew his brother, and all the other apostles.

In the tenth chapter of the same Gospel, I also observed that the first _mission_ which Jesus Christ gave to his apostles, was given to all, without any particular prerogative to Peter. It is true that Peter is the first named, but this is merely an accidental priority, which implies neither distinction nor superiority; one must have been mentioned first. I made the same observation on the last mission which they received on the day of their Master's ascension, and which is related by St. Matthew, 28:19, 20; by St. Mark, 16:15; and in the Acts of the Apostles, 1:8. This mission, though variously expressed in the three places, is the same in substance. It is given indiscriminately to all; the promises by which it is accompanied are for all; and on all, the same powers are, equally conferred.